


His Little Prince

by ArtificialTVirus



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Children, Cute Kids, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugs, First Time Blow Jobs, Hell Johan, Implied/Referenced Underage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Orphans, Pedophilia, Short One Shot, Smoking, Some Humor, Underage Sex, cursing, darkspiritshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtificialTVirus/pseuds/ArtificialTVirus
Summary: When you broke 99 laws, what difference did that 1 make?
Relationships: Haou | Supreme King/Yubel Johan Andersen | Yubel Jesse Anderson
Kudos: 9





	His Little Prince

_Click._ Inhale. _Poof._

Following the wind, the toxic mist flew away and lighter tucked back into the pocket. Some of the smokes formed into circles by the skillful mouthplay, others dissolved unto the air around the lighthearted building.

“No smoking within this area,”

A lift of the eyebrow, that’s all the kindergarten teacher received.

“Oh really?”

She waved her palm around, scattering that delicate poison around.

“Yes. _Really,”_ Yet it fought back; into her insides, _lungs_. “Now leave before I call security,”

The same threat every time, spoken by a different voice. And it never seemed to work.

Or maybe it did. He _was_ leaving ironically enough.

“Go choke on a dick,”

Not without a spit of a cloud to her face and raging laughter behind those footsteps though.

Every day they had the same battle, undeniably for no reason on either party. Mutual hatred, as they called it.

 _Arrogant bitch,_ as he did.

Nevertheless, ways were parted once again. Not by far, not by will either, but they were. On a nearby street with his back on the hard, cold, concrete. Always the same _fucking_ one. So cold. Even during summer, it embraced him with cruel hands.

At least they never had to stay together for long.

“Hey,”

The blissful orange, so bright in such a grim heart _—_ looked up.

“Took your time,”

Outshining every spark of another. So small, so _irrelevant._

“Call it _hard traffic_ on the way,”

Even the aimed mocking laughter.

“Again? S’ppose I’ll be dancing on your grave soon,”

All to be ruined by those dreaded pills. The addiction. The images.

“Fuck off, don’t joke about that..."

The hallucinations.

“Sure, sure,” Stuffed in the pocket, just like the lighter. “Better not get seen around here though. Her royal _bitch_ is patrolling,”

Ashes fell like snow, thrown off by the wind at the hand pointing in the building’s direction.

“And what about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“You staying to creep on the children?”

A harmless joke; subtle nudge for the male’s safety. Crowded places often attracting curious eyes. Most unwelcome, but some even being innocent ones from the kindergarten.

“Does it look like I’m finished?”

Halfway through — the toxic filter of the cigarette still having some of its atonement left offering. A smoker’s _principium_ to properly finish their bio-break. Not a force in the world could make them cut it short.

“If they do find me, you’ll follow shortly after,” Words exchanged less than grams. At least for this part’s end. “Smoke like ten packs ‘a day,”

Frequently even that was too much.

“Get off my dick and mind yourself, won’t you?”

“Calm down, I’m leaving,”

True to his own words, his dealer left. Not a moment too late, the soon-to-be distant footsteps already deafened by child’s laughter and excitement.

“Ah…” Another inhale, the last to be. “Break time, is it?”

* * *

So many tiny footsteps, so many voices, all of them ringing in the central area and the background forest. They easily scattered life in and out of the emptiness around. Their echoing runs and screams matched the last falling ash, no need for tapping fingers to trigger it any longer. Gone of its use, the whole cigarette dropped to preserve that image.

Of humanity, _normality._ A role model for the children.

_“School’s over, school’s over!”_ Or at least not a smoker. Maybe. The care was _hardly_ there. _“Do you want to play today?!”_

He played too; — in fact, he was playing right now. Of how hard the used filter could be grinded beneath his shoe, fire long toned out.

“…That’s nasty,”

Nasty? It wasn’t nasty—

“Whaddaya want?”

Now called out, the action was stopped. Focus turned towards the sound pleading guilt. It betrayed its high-pitch; a child of the many. Somewhere, somehow, amongst every possible outcome and choice, _this one_ found a shady man hiding behind a wall most interesting.

“What’s your name?” A question as a response. Almost too smart to come out of preschooler’s mouth. “Who are you?” Another, equally as eager.

“I don’t know. Who are _you?”_

Unknowing to his sarcastic arrogance, that innocence earnestly answered.

“I’m Haou,”

That quick answer indulged a bit of surprise, and the malicious orange eyes had to blink twice for thoughts to reform. Nonetheless, a confident posture straightening up, albeit with a bit of stumbling and awkwardness over the next words, ‘Haou’ received the reply.

“Well…! I’m Johan,”

Coming to expect and impress, the other hardly seemed to be either of that.

“…Okay,”

_Okay._

Just that.

A plain and effortless shut down and zero care. No problems to sprout up that life inexperience and child ignorance.

“ _’Okay._ ’ That all you got to say?”

A youngling or not, he certainly wasn’t spared of the other’s lacking mask. Treat them as equals, the elder male was sure he read somewhere. He was contributing to that now.

Yet, that boldness seemed to be shared.

“Um…” A short pause, a bit of thinking. “Can you walk me home?”

The equal debated thought, but with less thinking. At the corner of the bright eyes, that troublesome company was seen nearing, and Johan sped up the proposal.

“Sure, let’s go,”

Not given much choice but oblige, large beaming eyes looked up at the man above; his hand sternly gripping his own, pulling him along in a rush, forcing them leave the school grounds in silence. But just like that, they stopped. As if it was all a sugary fever dream to walk together into their own worlds dragged by mutual strangers.

“Where do ya live?”

Looking around, safeguarding their presences, and Johan met the smaller pair of eyes. The words sending his face into a frozen blank state for a few moments.

“Nowhere,”

“What—” A mental head shake, this time focusing properly to hear that right. “What the fuck do you mean ‘ _nowhere’_??”

Maybe it was the swear, or the visibly rising frustration, but the tone in that childish voice sunk lower. So guilty, _so afraid._

“I don’t have a home…”

An orphan? Then where—

“Where’d you go before today?”

But Haou refused to answer. Raw emotion portraying on his face, ever more than before. The beautifully golden eyes didn’t dare look up anymore. They saddened — fallen as the rest.

“Christ…” Guilt tripped. That’s what this way, and by an eight-year-old nonetheless. He had right of sighs and grunts at the very least. “Fine, but I’m not keepin’ ya,”

And dare the other not expect a luxurious hotel or any fitting in the sort. They would both be quite lucky if they didn’t step in and get some mild radiation.

Not quite the meth lab, but unhealthy — definitely.

That, and messy.

“No bitching allowed once we’re there, got it?”

“Uhum,’”

Obedience was a good start, at least when it came to children and Johan himself. He liked that trait in anyone; as long as it was directed at _him_. Obedient and quiet; that’s what this one was. It was expected – even the silence. They managed walking back as if it was the usual and normal routine of going alone for both, as conversation seemed to be peculiar.

With a quiet air between, the key apartment came into view and Haou was guided into the seemingly lonely building, reaching their point of location with little issue. What came inside was an expected sight of a druggie. A scattered mess of clothes, needles, pills, food, and drinks. Surprisingly enough among all that, there was space to walk around in the dual room flat.

It wasn’t big, but it was home to some.

“This’ it. Enjoy or whatever,”

The other was quickly left to himself to wander around; and he did. Pair of curious illuminating eyes inspected every little thing inside. Though most went untouched — too intimidating in appearance for the young one, some objects were sniffed through a little more.

This and that and eventually curiosity did kill the cat.

Or at least, hurt it a little.

“Owie!”

Next to the knife, a slender needle laid that blended into the background and shed red at its guest. With a low whine, Haou retrieved and put the wounded finger in his mouth, coating the blood away with saliva.

Blood, and so many other things.

Eight years of life and purity — kindness and all those nice things presented by people. It really was too much, wasn’t it?

“Johaaan—”

Golden eyes looked around, on the verge of crying. But the said man was nowhere in sight. At least not in one of the two rooms the apartment had. With a little stumbling through clothes on the ground, the small youngling found determination and set himself on the task of finding the other.

* * *

“Fucking shit, of course he’d give me less—” The little pieces, exchanged only awhile ago, now laid on the floor. “Cunt,” Frustration ended with the low insult, the whole affair half-arsed thanks to the plant’s influence.

Just as it came, it went quickly forgotten; finished with a regular cigarette lit up in the dim room. A puff of smoke blown into the empty air, enveloping the room with its usual mist save for the one window guiding it outside — open behind ripped curtains.

“…Huu, what a painful day,”

Voice spoke to no one in particular, the male using his chance to lean back on the bedframe and relax his muscles. The more thought came, more of them yelled random things. But one those freely reminded himself that drugs and drinks were not the only method of easing tension.

Most were, and some could even do it better. Though maybe not today. Maybe, he wasn’t willing to use those other methods this time.

This one seemed quite fine in fact.

_Zip._

“Ah… there ya are,” Pants. What a restricting accessory. “Now which one was it…?”

Filters — always an issue. Gangbang? Rape? _Which one had it._ That one video that really did it for him. It had two girls and—

“I’m hungry,”

Maybe he could find it via the title if it _wasn’t spelled incorrectly—_

“—What the fuck,”

Surprise wasn’t even hidden from his face, orange eyes blankly staring at his room’s doorway that had seemingly opened at one point and now had a child holding such heavy eye contact, that in the back of his mind, Johan wondered if kids truly had any shame.

“Jesus fuck, didn’t they teach you to knock-?!”

They. Parents. Right, right.

“…Sorry,” As if taught on command, no feeling put into the word’s meaning. “I’m hungry,”

A mild pause, mood quickly shifting with an awkward frown. As harshly as he stared at the child, it stared back. Johan lifted his eyebrow, some part of him genuinely curious.

“Can’t ya see I’m in the middle of somethin’?”

One hand holding the cigarette and phone, and the other down. He absentmindedly even started stroking himself previously, arousal somewhat initiated and halfway there.

“But I’m hungry…”

Clearly the fact that someone was jacking off with a dick in hands _didn’t matter_ when you were a kid.

“Well go find something to eat! How’s that my problem?!”

Shouting never helped, but neither were the caretaker choices exactly good this time too. _This particular one_ seemed to thin on the edges of patience.

“Okay… There were some weird green vegetables on the table, I’ll try those!”

With excitement, the youth headed back, not even bothering to shut the door and Johan exhaled; debating whether it was worth getting up to close it or not.

And then those words repeated. And then his brain started working. And orange eyes only widened at the realization.

“Do NOT eat the fucking green-!!” Voice barely even managed storming out of the bed, phone thrown aside, automatically loading up a video, and the floor greeted his face almost too soon. “’Ya hear-!!?”

He couldn’t even successfully get out of the bed and the other was standing at the doorframe again. The male grunted, watching Haou chew on _something_ and stare back; not an ounce of regret and guilt. That damn confidence against his angered face.

Setting himself back, not even bothering with the nudity, voice sunk low and threatening — _concerned._

_“Did you eat the green?”_

Silence. Tension so strong that Johan practically felt his heartbeat anticipating the answer and the other only answered _after_ he swallowed the last bite.

“Nuh, there was some pizza on the table,”

“God fucking damn you—” Such a release of the heaviness in his heart, a palm went up his face and massaged the temples to soothe himself down. “Among other stuff, this is the exact type of shit why I wouldn’t want a kid,”

But the other seemed unphased, and certainly even less amused. Blunt as every other;

“Why? ‘Cause you’re ugly?”

It took all effort to swallow that boldness down. He did raise the middle finger though; not that the other knew what it meant.

“Fuck you, I’m not ugly,”

“But you’re watching naked ladies now…”

“How do you even—” ‘ _Ah, ah! Yes, please, god!’_ In the background. Right, the video that began. “Jesus, can you just leave already??”

Food didn’t seem to be an issue any longer, so—

“Mm… but I’m bored,”

“I don’t care. Get out,”

If privacy wouldn’t be granted, then they would both have to suffer through this. A hand reached back to take the phone, now trying to diverge attention to that.

“Why are you doing that?”

The conversation continued, though Johan proceeded to stroke himself in the meantime; more or less drifting in and out of the pleasurable trance threatening to loom him in.

“’Cause it feels good,”

“Oh,” But that hardly satisfied the unending curiosity. “Why does it feel good?”

Heat began building steadily, and the male couldn’t help out a whine that escaped before coherent words did.

“Ah, fuck it kid, I dunno! Because it does!” Unknowingly orange eyes shut at that, reopening a mellow and melted color to look at the other in the distance. “Why ya askin’ me all this stuff?”

Haou didn’t have an immediate answer, and that was appreciated for some moments he could be muted out of existence. Though that lasted only so little.

“…Nobody ever told me you could do stuff that feels good,”

 _Nobody told you to shut doors either_ echoed a reply in his mind, but it didn’t leave from there.

“Of course they didn’t… This ain’t something to teach kids,”

“But why?”

 _Again_ with the _why’s._ He didn’t know, didn’t _care,_ and definitely didn’t want to be interrogated right now.

“Don’t know,” Best answer to sate those endless inquires. “What do you even want?”

Stroke as he may, the serious parental conversation was an added handicap and orgasm would be far out of sight if he didn’t put actual _effort_ into getting hard off of the topic.

“For you to play with me!”

Ah, the thing _friends_ were for. Definitely not a lousy drug addict. But Haou seemed as willing and excited to use the other as his play partner and stubborn enough to actually commit to that. Obviously the latter had all intention to bug until he got what he wanted, and his target in question was _very_ passive on the matter of anything energetic. Though one of the two held more than one braincells, and Johan used that advantage.

“If you want me to play with you, you’ll have to play with me a bit first,” If he had second thoughts or backlash against, they were long gone; by mentality and euphoria. “How’s that sound of a deal?”

He should’ve been in for a life sentence by now anyway.

“Hmm…” The small face went into thought; thinking of the offer oblivious to its intention. Even a hand under the chin to reflect that. “Okay,”

And his host just smirked.

Easy, that’s what that childish innocence was. _Corrupt_ — that’s what the filthy adults different in.

“C’mere,”

Momentarily putting the cigarette in mouth, some space on the bed was adjusted for the other to climb on. Which Haou slowly did; — small footsteps neared, curiously hopping on the mattress to sit on his knees not too far in front. Another inhale, though this time Johan blew the smoke at the side and repositioned it back in his hand.

“See how I do it?” A delicate stroke shown as an example, golden eyes following the instructions. “Take it fully in, and rub,”

With some guidance via his own hand, he gently led the smaller one around his arousal, feeling a foreign emotion course through at new sensations.

“Jus’ like that, yeah,” Body premature, too young, the small hand couldn’t make a full hold of it. “Now start movin’ up and down,”

Cautiously, Haou obliged. Though it was odd and not that silky to work with, he tried to harden the grip to make it better. It earned a low whine.

“No, no… not too hard. You were doin’ it fine a moment ago,”

In the moment, the smaller form looked up, and then back down; taking the direction to heart and trying again. He didn’t know if it was good or bad; only silence came. It wasn’t until some ashes fell on his face that the bright golden looked up again.

“Mmh… ‘s too small,” Johan murmured to himself, glancing forward and meeting the other.

As much as he tried to enjoy himself, the contact was too oval — too _soft_ and inexperienced to know what it was doing and how to do it correctly. His dick was rubbed like a ball rather than… well, a hungry orgasm. It couldn’t even be thoroughly held in that tiny palm. 

“Hey, you uh…” Something, _something_ resembling that. “ _—_ Like licking icecreams?”

The other practically jumped at the thrill of the word.

“I love icecream!”

“Great,” Minus the sweetooth part, practically the same thing. “Lick it like you do icecreams then,”

Surely disappointment would settle sooner or later at the taste, but that would be a problem _after_ he came; and after he came, there would be no more problems.

“What’s your favorite flavor?” A hand came to gently nudge the other to go down. Haou pouted, but nonetheless bent forward and leaned on his elbows. “Vanilla,”

 _Oh_ , perfect _._ Even the white.

“You’re gonna love it then,” 

When the hot breath neared, a twitch signaled the eagerness and Johan used a little more strength in his guidance, growing too impatient to keep waiting much longer.

Thankfully, the mouth closed in. Slowly, carefully; experimenting with what it was instructed to do and how to start. At first it was a gentle movement — some sort of unintended kiss that gave a rather funky vibe and reaction in him. Not quite bad, but plainly weird.

Most importantly, not a thing that would get him working.

“Suck it, c’mon. This how you eat icecream??”

His tone teased, and it didn’t need more than that to have a child resolved to fight.

“Nuh! Thiish how I ehat et!”

“Fffuck-ah—”

_The whole thing._

He took it in. Somehow. Not all the way down, but at least the upper half way safely swimming in wet.

Even some bits of teeth clenching down to oh _just show_ how he properly ate that icecream. Too dull to bite down properly, too mindful to treat it as if it wasn’t a cone full of cold that would fight back should you bite too hard.

Far too precise to find anything but joy in the mouthful.

“Yeh… Keep goin’,” The hand that still held both the phone and the fading smoke plopped down on top of the brown hair, and Johan lousily pressed the ‘play’ back on the video, resuming to watch the penetration and moaning of it as the added sensations could only now be felt drawing him closer.

Unknowingly, he pressed the other down further, whose muffled noises and questions of _‘izsh et goooood?’_ muted completely — face unable to do much else from moving, save for the usage of its mouth.

Big, he was. Small, the mouth also was. In result — did it permit talking in the portion?

Absolutely not.

“…Ahh, fuck me you’re small,”

He didn’t know which, maybe both, but the pornography playing and the blowjob were doing their jobs; hopefully the latter would continue to do so, precum was already there.

But the mouth — _especially_ the mouth that was warm and _small_ and wet and _small_ and _was trying in its cramped, soaking, insides—_

“Don’t choke!”

Whatever previous care was lost in the momentary madness, and Johan tugged the smaller form forward further, forcing himself deeper in the throat and embracing the brown hair beneath him in a tight, clutched, hug. The moment the muscles unclenched, the other pulled away, and far too soon at that. Some of the remains still spilling from the mouth.

“That’s gross!”

Haou wiped the corners of his mouth with a sleeve, multiple times, as it seemed to have sprouted all around his chin. Except now he had it on the arm of the shirt.

“It’s my special flavor,” Came the laughing answer, practically purred into innocence and seduction. _As if he didn’t just fake pretend._

“I don’t like it…”

Who knew. Kids really did prefer actual sweetooth over semen. _Surprising._

“I do,”

Pants zipped back up, phone tossed, cigarette lost somewhere in the mayhem; maybe now he wouldn’t kiss the floor on his first try of getting up. Or maybe that really was just laziness to begin with.

“…Will you play with me now?”

Pleadingly, Haou tried his voice again. It mellowed to be so soft and beginning; staring at its darker color counterpart and tempting that orange melt as well. And maybe if his target wasn’t under influences, it would work too. But all that came was;

“Nope, you can go play with yourself,”

_Sniff._

Oh no.

“Don’t you dare—”

“You pwomised!!”

Even the proper letters got lost in that desperation, the dreaded fear nearing narrowing down a lot of options for refusal.

“Just play with yourself!! Do what you did to me, to you!”

Johan tried, even waving his arms defensively to justify his supposed _reasoning,_ but the crying already began. Not quite dramatic and loud, but would undoubtedly get there.

“Nuh!! I want YOU to play with me! I dun wanna pway with myshelf!”

“You don’t even realize what that fucking means—!”

“I don’t care!!”

_Wherever_ did he learn those last words.

By him. He said them. Half an hour ago. _Fucking idiot._

“Okay, okay! Just stop with the weeping!” Not only for the crying itself but it was getting mixed with the drool and the— “Fucking christ…!”

It was lowering. Slowly, but it was. Silence would be their dawn again. Except he would need to follow the _deal_ for it to last but it _would._ Somehow, Johan tried to connect _this_ deal to his own usual ones, and that made it find the exchange much, much easier to take. Moneys for drugs, drugs for money. Equivalent exchange — even this was that.

“Not a word to anyone ‘bout this, got that?”

More snots, more sniffs and leftover sobs.

“…F-fine…”

Out of everything done in his life, teaching a child to masturbate wasn’t on that bucket list. Arguably _having one blow you_ wasn’t either, but somehow that one appeared more… fitting.

Nevertheless;

“What’d you learn so far?”

“That I gotta reach my pants with my mouth?”

In the end, he’d just have to add those to a list of experiences.

“No,”

* * *

So he was stuck with a child.

An utterly oblivious and young form that was shaping his life around; having the worst possible role model to do so too.

But alas, it was by _his own_ choice.

Haou, as he said the name, not ever mentioning the surname either, _chose_ to stay by that influential and unhealthy side. Despite Johan’s protests and many attempts to get him rid of.

He actively said ‘no’ and ‘go away’ — one too many times in fact, and got dominated by the ultimate power move of crying. While the extremes always existed, they were never executed. It was… company; not entirely unwelcome. More often a nuisance, but it had its own benefits.

 _Those_ benefits.

The ones without morale.

But there were ones _with_ too. The young boy continued his schooling, now even having someone await him at the end of each school day and walk him in the morning, too.

All in return asked, was to keep about Johan quiet.

Which, he did. Even if in the pure golden eyes, the twenty-two-year-old was the best mother, father, brother and sister one could ever have. But after a lot of ‘why’s’, even that was convinced.

And when that stubbornness was persistent;

_‘But Johaaaaan,’_

_‘You love me, don’t ya?’_

_‘Mhm…’_

_‘Then,’ A peck. ‘You’ll listen,’_

It felt as if he broke that promise, all of it would be over. He would be alone again. Without friends, without family. And in reality, that questioning connection did have a string holding it on the line. There were many others as well, but undeniably, this was one of them too.

However, things changed. Small particulars in his life. Often missed, rarely noticed;

Though... this one right now, _definitely_ was.

“Shh, no cryin’” Another hiccup from the soft eyes. Each time they were blissful in the shine of tears. “Gotta finish before the bell rings, don’t we?”

It's said that the devil's in the details, and the _detail_ here was one _very_ crucial thing;

That same stone-hard wall could never be quite as _cold_ when you had a small body pinned against it, drowning you in heat, exposed to things that should never be;

Now could it?


End file.
